Teenage Musings
by LaNorita
Summary: Paula's trying to set up a blind date for Spencer with a mystery person. Who does she have in mind? Response to a challenge
1. Chapter 1

"Spencer honey, what are you doing tomorrow night?"

Meet Paula Carlin, also known as my very interfering mom. She means well most of the time, but doesn't really know when to stop prying, talking, or even just being present really. I'm not sure how to really put our relationship into words, but easygoing isn't one of them. You'll literally see us throwing stuff at each others head one minute, and see us comforting each other in a cryfest after watching The Notebook for the 28th time the next one. To say that our bond was complicated would be an understatement. But it was the good kind of complicated.

Most of the time anyway.

"Something that has absolutely no relation to you whatsoever."

"Spencer, be nice."

Meet Arthur Carlin, also known as the best dad in the world. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating. If there was an award, he'd win every single year hands down only to donate the accompanying check to some charity fund because he was that kind of guy. You know something's wrong (or right?) when the friends you invite over to your place keep asking for your dad so they can hang out. Not really the best confidence-booster I might add. Having a Superdad has its pro's and con's. But the pro's definitely outweigh the con's largely.

"And while your at it: roll over and play dead too."

Meet Glen Carlin, also known as asshole, ass-hat and ass-douche. Sometimes known as my brother. Most of the times when he's unconscious or unable to talk. He's just the kind of big brother who doesn't know when to stop butting in or just being his jock-self. He's a moron that'll harass you with his stupid, crude and brainless comments, but will eventually always protect you from the big bad bullies at school. Even if he did start the bullying. I guess I like him in one form or another. Although I have yet to discover which form that might be.

"Glen, too far. Go to your room."

Ah, it's nice to see Superdad order The Douche to his room. I guess I do love Glen when he's stomping his feet and muttering under his breath and I'm the cause of it.

"So, Spencer. You still haven't answered my question."

My mother is way too interested in my plans and nothing good ever comes from that. We had our Family-Day just 7 weeks ago so I know it's a long time before that comes up again.

"I actually think I did." I say easily while I shuffle myself to the sofa. Might as well make myself comfortable. This may take awhile.

"Nothing specific?" She asks while taking the remote of my hands and effectively blocking the TV I was watching.

"Not really. Just watching some good ole' fashioned TV. Pretty much what I'm trying to do right now." I hint while trying to watch past my mothers body. It doesn't really work when she copies my movements, with her freakishly good anticipation. Guess, I'm not getting out of this conversation any time soon.

"Sounds like a night devoid of excitement."

"Sounds like a night devoid of you and your plans."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"I'll pretend not noticing you pretending not hearing me. And don't even start to pretend not noticing me pretending not noticing you pretending not hearing me."

And I'll pretend that made a whole lot of sense in my mind. I told you our relationship was anything but simplistic.

"I met this girl yesterday."

"Really, mom. At least wait until dad is out of the room."

Dad wakes up and mumbles something from where he's sitting, pretending he was listening carefully to the conversation when he was really dozing off. You see, even he has his limits.

"She's really nice and-"

"No." I answer quickly while I engrossingly examine my nails.

"What? I didn't even ask you something, how can you answer me already?"

"I know what you're trying to do mom and the answer is still no."

"But she's really nice-"

"And I'm sure she'll continue being nice after I don't date her."

You see I used to think that me coming out to my parents would be the hardest thing I would ever have to endure in my life and that everything from then on could only get better. I mean I'm pretty sure that I would've preferred them hosing me down with holy water in the garden, while Biblical verses were blasted through the stereo for the whole neighborhood to hear than _this_. _This_ has been going on ever since I came out to them.

_This _as in blind dates.

You know, at first I thought: man, I have the coolest parents. I mean, who would arrange blind dates for their teenage daughter, who just pretty much crushed their only hopes for grandchildren (surely, you're not counting on Glen) and a perfect son-in-law, with some pretty hot chicks. But then one blind date, became two, two became three and three became seventeen. And each one of those seventeen girls had some crazy streak in them, and I'm not talking the good kind of crazy.

My mother, because my dad though I love him is _so_ whipped that he agrees to everything, has become obsessed with my lovelife. It pretty much became her goal to hook me up since that faithful Saturday …

--------

_"Mom, dad there's something I need to tell you."_

_I'm fifteen and I can't keep this significant part of me hidden from them anymore. They were bound to find out anyway. I just don't want them to do so when I'm in a compromising position with another girl up in my room. God, imagine if mom walked in on us and started pulling the girl I was with by her hair down the stairs and threw her out half-naked._

_I really do watch too much TV._

_"Did you crash the car again? Spencer, I already told you that getting a drivers license is not overrated."_

_"No dad, I didn't crash the car … this time. And I still stand by my point of view, thank you very much."_

_All I'm saying is that if I don't need a license to ride a bike, then why do I need one to drive a car. Practice makes perfect, right?_

_In my case, a lot of practice makes perfect._

_Eventually._

_When I'll be 37 or something._

_"Did you 'accidentally' walk out of the store with the Manolo Blahniks you tried on, but didn't pay for again?"_

_"Hey, that was by accident! And whatever mom, you know that trip to the police station was absolutely uncalled for."_

_If I was going to steal something, I would've at least added a designer bag or two. I mean Winona did it, why can't I?_

_"Sure honey. Now what's the big news?" My dad says while looking at me expectantly._

_He's going to take it good right? I mean he's a social worker, he's supposed to be accepting or something. So he's totally going to be okay with it and he'll probably buy my a pony because he's the best dad in the world. Although, they always say it's the ones you least expect that do something … least-expectantly . Just look at all those serial killers. Everybody is like "he's such a nice guy" and "he seems very shy but also very genuine" and then suddenly BANG! They find his freezer filled with nicely cut chops of his six past girlfriends, who he killed because they said 'hello' instead of 'hi'._

_"Spencer?"_

_"Dad you don't mind if I say 'hello' right?"_

_"Huh?"_

_I really should stop watching America's Most Wanted._

_"Nevermind."_

_"Sweetie, I really don't have a lot of time. These scrubs aren't going to get bloody on their own."_

_Oh God, here I am worrying about dad when mom's the one who uses a scalpel like an attached finger. She works in a hospital, she could totally make me disappear without anyone ever finding my body ever again._

_"I … I'm heading over to Sandra's tonight. Don't wait up." I say quickly, before making a beeline for the door._

_"Is this about you liking girls."_

_And I stop right in my tracks. Pretty much just like my heart stopped beating._

_"What?"_

_"You know you being gay. Lesbian if you prefer. You liking the ladies." My mom adds with a teasing voice._

_I slowly turn around to find both my parents with smirks painted on their faces._

_"What are you talking about. When did you-"_

_"Since you were about six." My dad answers with a hint of amusement._

_That's impossible. I've barely known for sure for a year and a half now._

_"How did you-"_

_"You were constantly letting Malibu Barbie make out with Cheer Barbie." My mom says._

_"So, it was completely innocent."_

_"Naked." My dad adds._

_"It was too hot for clothes. It's not my fault they didn't have underwear."_

_"You tortured Ken." My dad continued. Seriously, who keeps track of stuff like this?_

_"It was part of the storyline."_

_"You ripped his arms and legs off and fed them to the dog."_

_"That bastard cheated on her!"_

_Cheer Barbie caught him going at it with that plastic, so called best friend, slut Stacey._

_On. Their. Bed._

_Totally broke her heart. Justice needed to be served._

_"You then took his torso and head and threw him in the fryer filled with boiling oil."_

_"He kept denying it! It was the only way he'd confess."_

_"We know that Malibu Barbie and Cheer Barbie are still getting it on in the closet in your room, Spence."_

_"You searched through my closet?" I gasp in shock. I truly hope those Barbie's are the only thing they've found._

_"Yeah well, they needed to come out." My mom snickers out, barely containing her laughter._

_"Ha ha. And whatever they're just Barbie-dolls, it doesn't prove a thing."_

_What sane parents base their judgment on dolls?_

_"You kick-punched Brad when you were 8 when he gave you a kiss on the cheek."_

_"I was scared of cooties."_

_"You didn't kick-punch Steffi when she kissed you on the cheek. Multiple times."_

_"Whatever mom, everybody knows girls don't have cooties."_

_Seriously, I'm beginning to think their gay-observation was completely accidental. I mean, I'm either straight, bi or gay. It's one chance out of three._

_"We know you sneak downstairs to watch The L-word after we go to bed."_

_Damn, I knew I should've kept the volume down._

_"I watch for the sublime acting."_

_"We know why Madison really started dating Glen."_

_Oh, shit. Didn't see that one coming. There's only one thing a proud young girl can do in this situation. And that was to give her beloved parents a worthy explanation._

_"Okay, I'm gay. Bye mom, bye dad." I say rapidly while powerwalking my way to the closest door._

_Too bad I'm just not that kind of girl. _

_------------_

"You make it sound as if we've never done this before."

Yeah, I wonder if I should give her a quick recap of the past seventeen times. It would make an awesome reality show somewhere in the future. I think I'd call it "Spencer meets the Crazies".

"Exactly, and I've finally learned my lesson."

"Honey, there's no need for exaggeration."

"Exaggeration? Really, mom?"

"I dare you to name one bad blind date." She says confidently while staring me straight in the eyes. How does she think she's going to win this confrontation? I should challenge _her_ to name one half-decent blind date.

"Ok. Let's start with Carmen who was so poised on letting me start living _la vida loca_, since I was a little too 'innocent' for her liking. Or how our first date was at an underground gang-refuge somewhere in the shadiest part of Chinatown."

Yes, I am aware Chinatown is one shady place on itself. So just imagine the shadiest place in this shady town, underground with a very shady-looking gang surrounding you and your shady date.

Exactly. Shady.

"Well, what's wrong with a little adventure? It keeps life interesting."

"Oh yes, very interesting indeed. By the way dad, how_ is_ Carmen doing? Still attending your counseling-sessions down at the Youth Detention Center?"

"Huh, what? Sure that's great, honey." He mumbles sleepily, only to doze right off again.

Somebody is going to be in the doghouse tonight.

"What about Jonica? She was such a well-spoken and educated sweet talker."

I thought she was trying to convince my to accept the blind date, not run away from it even faster.

"Don't you mean _Grace of God_? Oh yeah, she was a sweet talker alright. Even tried to sweet-talk my way into the wonderful world of Jehova."

"So she was a believer. We all believe in something, Spencer. Didn't we learn you not to judge other people's choices of religion?"

"Our first date consisted of door-to-door harassment in every neighborhood in this area. I swear people still close the drapes when I walk by." I deadpan.

I am not overreacting. Some of my friends' parents still won't let me in their house. They're positive I'll brainwash their children into some cult where they work night and day on a spaceship made off carton boxes.

"Spencer-"

"And seriously, _Jonica_? Why the hell would I date someone who's parents probably named them when they were too plastered to think straight or as high as a kite. In this case probably both."

It would be like Cody dating Topanga all over again. So what if she was the one for him, who would marry a 'Topanga'? I mean imagine if they went on their honeymoon to Copa Cabana where they'd dance the night away to De La Soul's Copa Cabanga. That has tragedy written all over it. I wonder how they would name that episode? _The one where Cody and Topanga danced the Copa Cabanga in Copa Cabana. _Tongue-twister anyone?

"Okay, I admit that some previous blind dates might not have been very … successful."

Snort. Understatement of the year.

"But this girl … I don't know, I'm just positive you'll like her."

"Yeah, you seemed pretty positive about Gangbangs and Jehonica too."

Yes, I own the copyright to those names. So please do not reciprocate. Not like anyone would want too.

"Spencer this girl is bright, she's funny, she's beautiful, she's charming, she's …"

… psychotic, she's a junkie, she's a stalker, she's a serial-killer. Nothing's too far out of reach when it comes to my mother's insights in people. She knows all about their guts, but nothing about their mind.

"Sounds like a keeper, maybe _you _should date her."

"She didn't seem interested …"

What?

"What?"

"God, Spence I'm kidding. Seriously, though. Ever since Christine introduced her-"

"Wait, Christine as in Christine Davies?"

"Yes. What's-"

"As in Crazy Chrissy from Spring Break '86?"

"Yes, but-"

"As in the chick that is still featured in the most memorable Spring Breaks on MTV?"

"Spencer-"

"As in the chick that kept flashing her boobs to the camera's screaming _'Lesbians do it better, lesbians make it hotter' _?"

"Yeah. That was one hell of a Spring Break." She muses dreamily.

I seriously don't think I want to investigate that tidbit any further. I'll just repress it along with the many other stories around my parents I pretend not to have heard or worse, experienced. Just like I pretend not to have seen my parents at the local adultshop a few weeks ago when I was doing some research for my Advanced Biology class. Yes, Biology class. I happen to take that class very seriously.

"Uhm, thanks but no thanks."

"But why not?" she asks disappointed. I swear, that woman is way too involved in my lovelife or lack thereof. I'll have to ask dad if he keeps her satisfied.

Damn, that came out wrong.

"Mom, I'm not dating any offspring of Crazy Chrissy and Danger Davies. I mean, do you imagine what those two could produce?"

I'm actually shocked I haven't heard from or seen this girl before on E!. God, knows I'm glued to that channel. I happen to enjoy celebrity's latest drama and issues. It makes me feel better, since I like to think I'm a bit more levelheaded than the average wacko celebrity. Granted I don't have a fortune or even 7 dollars on my bank-account, but still.

"One Danger Crazed Kid?" she jokes half-heartedly.

What if she's like Britney, Lindsay, Paris and Tara all mixed in one? Oh my God, my mother is hooking me up with a bald, ex-con, heroine-addicted crazy who spends her time annoying the shit out of everybody in every city of the world.

"I'm leaving, mom."

"Spencer, at least give her a shot. If you don't like her after one date, I swear I'm not going to pursue you into dating her or any other girl ever again."

Tempting, but there's always a catch with mom.

"I don't care since I'm not going to answer your persuasive ways. I'm my putting foot down on this, mom. I'm not going."

That's right, I said no to mom. The new Spencer is born.

Who am I kidding, my Mystery Date is probably already waiting for me in my room. Mom has some mad skills and what Paula wants, Paula gets.

Blind date from hell part 18, here I come.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thanks for the awesome feedback, people. I truly appreciate it all. Have a nice read.**

* * *

"Hi, you must be Spen-" 

Hi, I'm Spencer Carlin and I'm my mom's bitch. I actually thought I was able to get out of this, this time around. But she threatened me into accepting the date. I contemplated to go to the police with this. Surely it's against the law and they'd probably kick her out of the hospital if they knew about her dirty antics.

My dad ended up convincing me not reporting her. Apparently there's nothing in the law against ' the threat of cutting off cable'. That, and he reminded me of my not so good reputation down at the police station.

I've had a few run-ins with the cops in the past. But those are stories for some other time. Right now, it's all about Blind Date numero 18.

"Yeah, yeah whatever .. Let's get straight to the point here."

"O-kay." She lets out nervously while looking me up a little funny.

I'm really tired of all these games. I just want to get out the lies and psycho facts about her as soon as possible so I can leave before the first dish.

I'll take the rest of the food with me.

"So why did _you_ shave your head?"

"Excuse me?"

Oh, she's playing dumb. I guess that could work on a poor naïve little lesbian who'd be completely and utterly enthralled by her appearance. But not with me, she won't. I've been in too many of these situations to let her beauty fool me.

The prettier, the crazier.

"Oh don't you go all 'excuse me' on me. I'm on to you."

"What are you talking about?"

Not giving in, huh. She's mislead by my blonde hair and bluer than blue eyes. She thinks I'm sweet and innocent and that a few winks will make me swoon into her arms and eventually her bed.

Wrong, bitch.

I make them swoon into _my_ bed.

"There's no way that hair is yours, that's what I'm talking about. So were you under the influence of drugs or did you think that you just might pull it off?"

Britney thought she could pull it off. Actually Britney thinks she can pull a lot of things off. Including her underwear.

"Uh, I don't know what your problem is but this is my hair."

"Yeah, right. Like your hair is naturally that shiny and curly and healthy-looking. That wig must've cost you a fortune."

"What the hell is your problem? This. Is. My. Hair."

Clearly she's not going to come clean. I hate it when this happen. Seriously, why can't people just admit their actions? I really don't like making them face the facts, but it's just who I am.

"Is it now? Because if this really is your hair then why can I do this?" I say as I lean forward and pull harshly at the hairpiece in attempt to yank it off of her. Notice my emphasis on _attempt_. No matter how hard I pull, the hair stays perfectly in place.

"Ow! What do you think you're doing?" She shrieks as she slaps away my hand and starts massaging her scalp.

She must've gone crazy on the superglue, cause that isn't going to come off any time soon. Unless she …

"I guess you got enough money to get a decent hair transplant."

"Oh my God. What's your problem? This is my own freaking hair!"

She does seem quite determined and feisty. That means she's telling the truth or she's a pathological liar.

I'll go with the latter.

"Sure. Whatever. So how much for those?" I say while slightly lowering my eyes and raising my eyebrows.

"What are you moaning about now." She exhales clearly reaching her boiling point.

I just might catch that Grey's Anatomy marathon just in time.

"Your boobs."

"I can't believe this." She huffs out with a incredulous laugh.

"You're obviously not above having a hair transplant, what's wrong with a little work on your boobs or nose for that matter."

Okay, the nose was just to add to her aggravation. But seriously, I'm missing on sexy Izzie-time.

"Are you an undercover paparazzi? I swear you guys don't know when to stop. Like, breaking into my house and filming me while dancing and singing to The Supremes half-naked wasn't enough. You're taping this conversation aren't you?"

I'm wondering if she was singing to 'I'm coming out'.

I should've guessed that my parents knew I was gay, when they gave me that cd for my 14th birthday.

Or when they played it every single time I was with them in the car.

On our way to church.

My parents are so weird.

"Oh, little miss attention whore thinks everybody's dying to know about her 12 plastic surgeries, doesn't she?"

"I swear if you weren't Paula's daughter, I'd be kicking your ass right now." She growls menacingly.

Well, she didn't really growl. But, I bet she'd look damn sexy doing it.

"Temper, temper. Tell me _Ashley,_ if that's even your real name, how many times a day do you shoot?"

"Oh, I don't play ball. Actually I'm not really into sports at all." She says naively, and slightly relieved it seems. She must think that the conversation is finally happening on a normal level.

Such a funny girl.

"I'm talking about heroine, moron." I hiss under my breath.

"What? I can't believe th- Wait I know who you are. You're a narc aren't you!" she narrows her eyes while pointing me down with her very long, feminine and slender finger.

What? If you're a lesbian, you notice these things.

"That's just plain ridiculous. Didn't your parents learn you not to make bottomless accusations."

Mom and dad may be a little non-conventional when it came to raising me up, but I was taught how to converse properly. That doesn't mean I use that knowledge, but I'm sure it'll come in handy some day.

"Oh, that's real nice. _You _are giving _me_ lessons on how to behave in conversations?"

"Look, I know it's really hard growing up with Crazy Chrissy and Danger Davies as parents, so I'm giving you that."

"Who are you to judge me, huh? I mean, you have no right to accuse me or ask me all these ridiculous questions."

"Oh, believe me I do."

She has no idea just how much I do.

"Is that so? Please, oh Great One, enlighten me."

"Seventeen unknown whacko's and Britney taking _'oops, I did it again'_ very literally 18 times a day. That's what I'm talking about."

I rest my case.

I swear if Law School is anything like in Legally Blond, I'm so in there.

"Oh, I see. Just because you met some crazy girls in the past and I'm a celebrity's daughter, you get the right to stigmatize me and treat me like a dumb bimbo?"

Shit, what the hell does stigmatize mean? Quick, say something smart and witty.

"Straight up."

Yup, real winner there, Spence. I really should pay more attention in English. It's embarrassing enough I'm failing at my native language. Even Glen managed to pass.

Granted he cheated, but at least he was smart enough to do _that_.

"You think I'm thrilled to be on this blind date with you? You're just lucky PC is your mom and is persuasive like that. Because I sure as hell don't want to spend my Saturday evening with some crazy obsessive narc who doesn't know when to shut her freaking mouth."

PC? What is she: a personal computer?

"I'm not a narc, okay."

"You're denying the narc-part but not the rest? Well, that's interesting to know." She says with a hint of a smirk.

You know if she'd just shut up and smirk like that all day I might actually enjoy her company.

"Shut up. I admit I may have gone a little overboard with the accusations."

"A little?"

I _was _planning on asking her if she's willing to sacrifice herself for her religion, whatever that may be. I think I'll ask her that after dinner.

"Whatever, if you've been in my shoes for the past two years you'd do the same."

"I doubt that. But, okay, let's just leave this behind and order something cause I'm starving. I haven't had a decent meal in days."

"Anorexic or bulimic?"

"Carlin." She warns me sternly.

"Okay, I was just kidding …kinda." I smile candidly.

"This isn't working." She sighs.

"Look let's just make the best of it. Do you wanna hear something funny?" I ask, trying to somewhat save the date to a certain extent.

"Does it involve me?"

"Not in particular."

"My boobs?"

Believe me there's nothing funny about your boobs.

"No."

"My hair or any tidbit about my so-called shaved head."

Why did she had to ruin a perfect opportunity for an icebreaker? I'm trying really hard here.

"Okay, do you wanna hear_ another_ funny story?"

"Knock yourself out." She mutters under her breath while looking around for the waiter.

"So yeah, I drove down here because nobody could bring me. But I'm sorta not the best driver."

Understatement.

"Barely passed your drivers test?" She smiles knowingly.

Ha! If she only knew.

"Er, something like that. Anyway, I drove down here and didn't hit a single thing. Not even a squirrel, which I consider to be the benchmark of amazing driving skills. And I was just so ridiculously excited that I called my dad when I was parking my car, so I could rub in his face that you don't need a drivers license to be a crashless driver."

I see her face contort in confusion and I immediately catch my slip-up.

"Not that I don't have a drivers license. I mean, I don't have one per se. I just … anyway so I was dialing my dad while backing up and suddenly I hear this incredibly loud crash. Well not like, piercing earth-shattering loud like when I …I mean, when my brother crashed into the garage at 60 miles per hour, but still quite loud. And I was so pissed, because I finally thought I had one crash-free drive and I mess it up at the last minute. So typical."

She's still looking at me quite skeptically and I'm not to sure what she's thinking. I'm guessing, it isn't in the line of '_damn, I hope she can drive me around some time soon'._

"Then I start freaking out because I crashed into a car and that means paying cash that I don't have. On top of that, I was completely locked in by surrounding cars so I couldn't drive away, like I usually do. I mean, like, _some_ people might do."

Have to stop the slip-ups.

"Is this story going anywhere?"

"Yes, Miss Impatient. So I get out and see that I totally trashed the front of this brand new Porsche. And I just start laughing because I was so relieved. Because, seriously, if the owner can afford a freakin' Porsche than they can afford to repair it. Hell, they probably can just buy a new one right away. So yeah, I laughed my ass off all the way up here." I end my story with near tears in my eyes, caused by the hysteric laughs I'm belting out. Seriously, funniest experience ever.

The silence I was met with was not the reaction I was hoping I'd get. Nor did I expect the frowning brows and the straight lips.

Oh great, mom set me up with Debbie Downer. At least Jonica laughed.

Sometimes.

When talking about Jehova.

"Why aren't you laughing?"

"Was that Porsche by any chance a slick black convertible?"

"Yes."

"And parked by the bakery across the street?"

"How did you know? Oh God, you saw me didn't you? This is so embarrassing."

"That's my car, you incompetent ghostdriver !"

"That's your car? Damn, you really _are_ loaded." I say impressed.

The glare she gives me tells me that she might just forget I'm PC's daughter long enough to bitchslap me.

"I mean oops?"

"I'm starting to think your dates weren't the problem."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Everybody knows they were the problem. I swear at times, I was sure that they were responsible for the war Iraq.

Or at least Michael Jackson's horrendous nose.

"It means you're the obvious instable nutjob who ruins all her fucking dates and makes them run for cover."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"I can't believe you called me a coke-snorting, bald whacko with fake boobs."

"Actually I called you a heroine-shooting, bald whacko with fake boobs and most probably fake nose too. Although, that last statement is still up in the air.

"I'm done. I'm leaving." She finally says as she stands up and collects her belongings.

Wait, shouldn't she be clinging to me or something. Or at least ask my number and address so she can stalk me for next 3 months? This is not how I planned it to be.

"What? No, you can't leave!"

"Give me one good reason not too."

"I'm not about to become the girl who gets stood up in the middle of a full restaurant so sit your ass back down." I hiss.

She calms down slightly and sits herself down again. That's right breath in and out. Calm your nerves and get comfortable in that plushy chair. You're good now? My turn then.

"I'm the only who gets to stump down her feet in childish manner and leave her date behind, got that? Besides, I _really_ don't think your car is in any state to be driven right now. Have a nice evening!" I practically spit out and quickly trot my way towards the door before she can say something. Well, stumble would be a more appropriate term. Why are there so many chairs in this restaurant?

Just when I was about to step outside I realize I forgot something of utter importance. I sigh as I turn around and trudge my way back to the table of torment and glare at its sole occupant.

"What, you forgot your purse? Wouldn't want to get on that road without your license now, wouldn't we?" She coos.

"Hardy har har, aren't you a real comedian. I forgot to ask your number. You know, in case I get a rash and I'll have to sue your plastic ass."

And what a fine plastic ass it is.

"Who said you're getting it."

"Please, I could probably find your number back in the sex ads of my newspaper under the name Rashly Ashley."

"You would know that, now wouldn't you?" She smirks.

Just put the voice on mute and zoom in on the smirk.

And boobs.

Never forget the boobs.

"Would you just give me the damn number already."

She takes out a pen out of her clutch in the most agonizingly slow manner to piss me off as much as possible. Just as I hand her a napkin trying to speed up the process a bit, she surprises me by taking a hold of my hand instead and slowly writes down the number on my hand.

"What you don't a have a business-card or something?" I snap, trying to look as cool as possible. My faltering voice really isn't helping my cause.

"Hmm, too impersonal." She husks out, as she writes down the last digit, tightens her grip, looks straight into my eyes with her dark chocolaty ones and carefully blows the ink dry.

Well, hot damn.

My hand, along with the rest of my body, has become limp and I'm pretty sure that there's drool coming out of the side of my mouth. I'm brought out of my eventual haze, by the removal of her hand and the harsh tone of her voice.

"Don't you have a tree to smash into?"

"Don't you a nose-job to redo?"

"You're not going to sell my number on Ebay or something, aren't you?" She asks nervously.

Well, well, where's confident little Ashley now?

"Tempting, but I'll pass."

"Good."

"I like to work with my sources privately."

"What are you really going to do with my number?"

"Maybe I'll call you up or something." I fake utter boredom.

"Maybe I'll be waiting for your call then."

"Alright then."

"Fantastic even."

"I'm leaving now."

"Don't stumble too much this time." She snickers out, while trying to keep a straight face.

"Don't … Ugh, whatever I don't need this."

"Say hi to PC for me." She adds when I'm about to leave.

"Will do, AD!" I feign excitement.

Just as I was finally decently walking a few steps to the door, she calls out to me.

"What?" I say huffily when I turn around to face her.

"You look cute when you're flustered." She winks at me before muttering an extra 'drive safe'.

I'm thinking, AD is about to become the painful but oh so sexy death of me. But PC is not about to discover that any time soon.


End file.
